05/20/2016
The gift
At first the bells sounded like typical church bells, marking the arrival or passing of daily routine as if to say, "Notice that the afternoon is now upon us" or "half your day is gone" - depending on one's perspective. But then they persisted, and this persistence had the effect of gathering my attention - invading my consciousness in order to draw me into theirs. They became (in my mind) joyous and hopeful, ringing out, "Pay attention! Don't let this moment slip into just another moment." So I paid attention.
I attended to the beauty of my surroundings and the expanding sense of gratitude in my body. "How fortunate am I to be present here now, experiencing these thoughts, sensations and emotions." Not only that, I found myself extending beyond my immediate surroundings to appreciating the various relationships in my life. Still, on the bells rang.
They "clinged" and they "clanged" without shyness or any indication that they intended to stop. I sat there on the bench in the graveyard absorbing the volley of sounds and vibrations, held fast in place. My eyes sought out the top of the steeple and I became aware of the sky - the ether which carried and dispersed these tones throughout the town and countryside - beckoning all to join in. "Stop what you are doing," they chimed. "There is something important you need to witness."
I realized that a funeral was taking place and that the bells' purpose was to pronounce the death of someone. I say 'pronounce' because 'announce' does not capture the strength of their message. The ringing out intensified, proclaiming, "A person has died! Do not let this go unnoticed!" It became insistent, almost angry, and I was reminded of the lines:
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Dylan Thomas
A person had died and the bells were not going to tidy up the event with a couple of notes or a moment of silence! I could feel the strength of their proclamation, "A person was here in body and this individual lived a life. Do not assume that to be insignificant! This person who perhaps only a few knew had purpose and affected others in this world.
You are not
a troubled guest
on this earth,
you are not
an accident
amidst other accidents
you were invited
from another and greater
night
than the one
from which
you have just emerged.
David Whyte
Then the bells shifted to exaltation, "What a glorious thing to have the privilege of life!" On they rang, holding me in place. No need to move. No need to get on with 'busy'ness. Just listen and feel.
Slowly, with subtlety and grace, the bells' message dimmed. "It's time to start letting go now - not to forget - to release." I sat there with tears in my eyes until one solitary tone completed the eulogy.
The bells had rang and undulated for more than 15 minutes without pause. It was magnificent! What a fitting send off for a life lived. What a gift to all who were present. What a gift to me.
[I had been visiting the grave site in Switzerland of C.G Jung (1875-1961), the founder of Analytical Psychology - my mentor and guide.]